


immagine di strega

by werewolfkeeper



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Gen, Ghost BC Secret Santa, Pre-Canon, Sibling Rivalry, Songfic (sort of...)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21978322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewolfkeeper/pseuds/werewolfkeeper
Summary: "You're lucky there aren't any Ghouls around.  She sees through all their eyes and hears through their ears.  And as long as she's at Papa's side, he'll let her do whatever she wants."There's an exchange of looks, even with Copia.  Then, Two and Three are shoving, fighting each other to get to their brother, to be the first granted with the knowledge he claims to be carrying and possibly willing to bestow upon them.Written as part of Tumblr's #GhostBCSecretSanta2019, based on StormyLeWirmy's request: "The Emeritus brothers hanging and being annoying sliblings with eachother."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25
Collections: Ghost BC Secret Santa 2019





	immagine di strega

"Witch bullshit," Two pronounces, looking up to his older brother for confirmation.

One nods solemnly. (Everything he does comes with an air of solemnity.) "Witch bullshit," he approves, largely in part because he was the first to make the statement.

It was one thing to watch Copia - the filthy little rodent - scurry around after Sister Imperator. All witches needed familiars and it only made sense that she would pick a _rat_ as hers. It was entirely different to see their own little brother tug at her skirt and accept the attention she granted him.

"Why do you let her do that?" Two sneers, throwing his copy of the _Malleus Maleficarum_ at Three when he rejoins them.

There's a flash of anger in the youngest's eyes, struck - literally - by his brother's audacity. He doesn't care about the question, he cares about the offense. He thinks, everyone knows, that he's above reproach. He thinks, even at ten years old, that he can still shriek and bring someone running to pamper him. 

Two watches him think about doing just that, now.

But Three chooses not to. He'll be the bigger man today - and in years to come. He instead clicks his tongue and plays dumbly coy. "Do what?"

"Treat you like one of her _pets_ ," spits Two. "She'll put a curse on you."

Three sticks his tongue out. "She won't."

"You ARE her favourite," One submits, stopping to collect the discarded book. He thumbs through a couple pages, like he's more interested in the reading than an argument. Maybe he is. Usually he is.

It shouldn't be something to look so proud of, but Three struts ahead, same as he always does, and looks too self-important for the accusation at hand. 

Two's eyes narrow. " _Mammone_ ," he condemns. It's his favourite word for his brother, now that One's taught it to him. Sister isn't one of their mothers, but Three acts like she should be. "Diglielo tu, fratello," he implores One. "She'll hex him like she hexed Papa."

"What do you think she'll do?" Three is only ready to invest in the game (because that's all it has to be) when he notices another player coming towards them in the hallway. The forthcoming other also notices them walking in his direction and tries to put his head down, to shuffle past unscathed. "Turn me into a _rat_?"

Copia's shoulders lift and drop - dramatic, but resigned. He's caught and now tries to make himself as small as possible against the wall...but mutters something to himself.

"What's that, rat?" Three crowds him. The height difference between them, a year apart, isn't much but sometimes Three can make himself seem as tall as Papa.

"He said she already has one of those," One suggests, strolling again to the head of the pack and not waiting for his brothers.

Three snickers. So does Two, relieved to have a new target he doesn't have to worry so much about. They turn to catch up with One. Copia will - like he always does - tag along even though there's nothing but heartache in it for him to do so. Temporarily united against a common enemy, they side-eye each other with knowing smirks and quirked eyebrows.

The skitter of feet on the tile behind. "You shouldn't talk bad about Sister."

Two rolls his eyes. 

Three wrinkles his nose. That isn't what _he_ was doing, but leave it to the stupid rodent to not understand.

"He's right," One throws back from a few paces ahead. "You're lucky there aren't any Ghouls around. She sees through all their eyes and hears through their ears. And as long as she's at Papa's side, he'll let her do whatever she wants." He's serious, not theatrical, but has learned enough about presentation to add a pause for colour. "And I've seen what she can do."

There's an exchange of looks, even with Copia as the others let their shocked curiosity outweigh their disdain. Then, Two and Three are shoving, fighting each other to get to their brother, to be the first granted with the knowledge he claims to be carrying and possibly willing to bestow upon them.

"What can she do?" It's Copia who makes it, while Two and Three trip over each other.

One sneers. " _You_ don't already know?"

Copia shakes his head, looking - in One's opinion - too dumb to know anything at all.

"Kind of a shit familiar, then, aren't you." It's not a question. One doubts that Copia even could answer, but would rather not leave anything open to the risk that he can. He's not deep enough into his read of the _Maleficarum_ to say, with confidence, what he thinks a familiar actually does besides scuttle around their summoner's feet and maybe, he guesses, spy on others for her.

In which case, Copia probably isn't so shit at it, after all.

"She kills for him," One opts to continue. It's not supposed to be part of the same thought, but he has trouble separating the two things when he adds: "She killed our mothers." He glares down at the other boy, this little interloper who somehow found the nerve to look back up through the same eyes he sees in his brothers, in the mirror. Maybe it's more common than he knows. The Ghouls and most of the Clergy wear hoods and masks, so he doesn't know what their eyes look like. "She probably killed yours. She's bloodthirsty."

"I don't think -" Copia starts, but loses his place when Three brushes past - strolling far too casually for someone who just needed to pick himself up off the floor.

"We know." Three pokes his tongue out again. "She should have killed you, too."

"E anche tu," Two snarls, intentionally knocking his brother's shoulder after dusting himself off.

One shakes his head. "No, she needs one of us for after Papa dies." He sees Three looking up at him, but can't read the wrinkle in his brow. He guesses it's not the reaction he's trying to inspire. "She sunk her claws into him when he was a child, too," he tries.

The math equations they're churning through are all but literally visible above their heads.

"...How old is she?" Copia dares to be the first to ask.

"Ancient," Two jumps in with. Most of what they know about Sister Imperator comes from One's designations, but he reads, too, and has thoughts of his own. "But every night, she _kills_ one of her Sisters and bathes in their blood to make herself look the way you think she does."

"Contessa Bàthory," agrees One. It's a really good guess, actually. Pensively, he taps the book in his hands. "Her pact with Satan allowed her immortality and black magic, but not eternal youth."

Three chews on the inside of his cheek. Once, he heard Papa call Sister "Elizabeth" when they thought they were alone, but he doesn't want to volunteer this. It doesn't mean anything. Lots of people have the same name.

"Doesn't that..." Copia flinches, shrinks in on himself when all eyes come back to him for thinking he has the balls to open his mouth again. "Should we...should we not want a witch on our side?"

" _Our_ side," corrects Two, lest Copia further blaspheme the discussion by counting himself as one of them.

"The Church's side." When they glare, Three shrugs dismissively. "What?"

"I told you!" Two balls his fists because it's all he can do to keep from tugging on One's sleeve, like a baby. Like his brother would. (Only a few months separate him and Three, but he wants everyone else to assume there are years between them.) So he forces his hands to relax. "He's _cursed_."

"She cursed _you_ to be a moron," Three says, smirking harder than he should have the right to. He sees Two trying not to lose it. That makes for a funny reversal of roles. "She's Papa's witch. You already said: he protects her and she kills for him."

"A-and her powers," Copia speaks up. There's a tremor in his voice - but then, when isn't there? - because he knows Three neither needs nor wants his support. It will be struck from any official record, the time he was right and they were wrong, but he takes satisfaction knowing they'll still have to think about it. And that seems like the kind of rough comfort that Sister deals in. "They come from the Old One. Just like Papa Nihil's."

Mostly for argument's sake so that his brothers don't get the wrong idea about this mutual understanding he has the misfortune to share with the rat, Three wants to point out that Papa doesn't have power of his own - except that's not true. Papa has Sister. 

"She's one of us," is what he says out loud, and much like most of his opinions, it sounds like he thinks it's a final ruling. "Maybe you're just jealous."

_Envy is a Deadly Sin_ , Copia almost says, but it's best if he keeps his lips buttoned. The thin ice he's treading on has been cracking beneath his feet since he stepped out onto it. One and Two would stomp and send him flailing without a second thought. Three, even while they're in agreement, would probably hold him under until he froze and drowned.

"Of what?" snorts One, taking the lead again just so he can look directly down his nose at Copia to indicate him. "Her pet rat? You're projecting, fratellino."

Two only knows what that means because of the context. It's true that Sister dotes a little more on Three than on them, but she's also the only person who pays any mind to Copia at all. He gets almost as much attention as they do from the old witch. And Three hates any division of attention that could otherwise be channeled to him. So, Two laughs.

Resent and rage pass through Three's eyes, locked on Copia - not on his brothers who tease him. Even though he's not over trying to invalidate One and Two's ridiculous lesson, part of him longs to realign with them and chase the vermin back into the sewer from whence it crawled out.

But they'll get back to that soon enough. "Then you're scared of her," he decides, which makes even more sense. _That's_ what he would do, too - deflect something that scared him by talking shit, but he keeps that knowledge close to his chest, for himself alone, along with Papa knowing Sister's True name.

( _Do witches work like demons?_ he wonders, briefly. Maybe that's how Papa keeps her. In which case, maybe Three will have her, too, one day. He won't say so - for now - but he wonders if that wouldn't be better than having brothers.)

One scoffs. It's also Two's turn to click his tongue. They're both making obnoxious noises and faces to match, in which Copia can't help but see the family resemblance. He has to clench his jaw to keep from laughing, afraid it might be the last thing he ever does if he has to say why...

" _THERE_ you are!"

Everyone but Three jumps. Hands, smooth and pale as porcelain, clap down on One and Two's shoulders. Is it luck of the draw that they had their backs to the end of the hallway? Or could Sister Imperator listen not just with her masked minions, but through the very walls of the columbarium? She grips the boys by the shirtsleeves and looks none too pleased, either way.

"Where have you been? Antichristmas rehearsal mass started _six minutes ago_ ," she hisses, spinning them around so they all look up to her. "Shall I take this as your resignation from the pageant?"

For a split second, Two looks all too hopefully at One. One's eyes are wide, he manages to hold an otherwise neutral expression as he shakes his head. Two, then, quickly also shakes his head, in case Three is watching him with the same misplaced ambition.

What Three is actually doing is scowling at the floor.

"Then, _GO_." Sister Imperator releases the boys, only to snap threateningly in their faces in case they had not already picked up on the urgency.

One does, but Two hesitates before turning the corner. He only stomps away when Sister crouches down - how, in that sheath of a dress? _Witch bullshit_ \- and tips Three's chin up with her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Wipe that horrid look off your face and go catch up with your brothers," he misses her saying. "You know you have an important role to play."

Three nods, still pouting even without an excuse to. A witch must only have so much time in her day for coddling and he's determined to take up all of it. He is - as always - willing to push his luck and wait until she goes with him to the chapel.

Sister Imperator pushes a loose strand of his hair off his face. There's no change, though, in her severe expression. 

"You, too, Copia," she tells the other boy who is nervously shifting his weight in the proverbial and literal shadows. She holds her hand out and it is stolen in an instant, before Three can snatch it up.

Sister stands and allows Three to stay close, even though she does not give him her other hand. Copia is a dumb animal and Three knows that Sister must know this. _He_ doesn't need to be dragged around, he can be trusted to follow. Copia cannot be trusted at all.

"It's not every night, you know."

The rat, once again, is stupid enough to ask the obvious question: "Wh...what's not?"

"The blood bath." Sister's face stays like stone, but there's a lightness to her voice that Three has only heard while eavesdropping on her and Papa. "I save that for special occasions." Her nose twitches. Copia and Three will never admit that, in that instant, they both held out for a smile that did not come. "But you don't have to tell your brothers."

It's neither the first secret they would share with her nor the last.


End file.
